Sight
by Obsidiantheatre
Summary: The naive rider is asking about them. What is a Nymph? They are the cursed beings of Algeasia. Those who roam the land to pluck the eyes of even their own kin. Why? To desperatly survive on the path of life and power. What is a Nymph?It is who I am.GORE
1. Prologue Existence

**Author's Note:** Much to Hisota's dismay, she doesn't own the original ideas for this story, as it sole belongs to Christopher Paolini. The ideas of control of elements of Hisota's original character belongs to Dragon of Twilight and were tweaked by ObsidianTheatre, as was the plotline in this fan fiction.

Exiting Angela's shop hastily, I stood in the street, squinting until my eyes adjusted to the beam of the Sun. Taking slow, deep breathes, I tried to calmly absorb the information Angela and Solembum bestowed upon me. Stumbling away almost intoxicatedly, I found myself wandering into a small, quiet tavern. I took a seat by the bar, and ordered some beer. I gulped it down as quickly as I could, letting the alcohol seep into my stomach, and bloom up in my chest. My thoughts were scattered from being fearful of what I had discovered of my future. Deciding that seeing Saphira would help push tranquility into my mind, I stood up and pulled out a coin to pay.

Suddenly a sloshing full mug of beer fell before my vision; I turned towards the owner of the hand arm hanging onto the mug to find a drunken man sitting beside me.

"Sit-down boy," the man yelled "you seem to be a good listener of tales, and do I have a tale to tell you!" He swayed flailing over his chair. I reached out to steady the man. Lashing out like a snake he clutched my elbow and pulled me down into my original seat. "You have heard of the tales of the Dragon Riders haven't you?" he asked, I hesitated, scanning around the pub to see if anyone was taking any notice. No one. I nodded. "Ever heard of a species called Nymphs?" I raised an eyebrow in question. Nymphs? I have heard of Elves and Dwarfs and Dragons, but never before have I heard of Nymphs!

"No" I replied "please, sir, tell me about these Nymphs." The man chucked and brought his mug of beer to his lips, taking a mouthful and set the goblet down.

"Long before the time that the Humans, Elves and Dragons formed a contract to create the Dragon Riders, Nymphs thrived in the land of Alagaesia. The Nymphs shared the cursed forest of Du WeldenVarden with the Elves. Many say that Nymphs are just as powerful as Elves, one of the reasons King Galbatorix wants to expose the hiding place of the Nymphs.

However, unlike the Elves whose powers are unknown to me, Nymph's powers are to be in control of the elements of fire, water, earth, and air." My eyes widened, this man knows much about the Dragons and Elves.

_Careful Eragon, he may be telling lies. _Saphira warned.But I doubted that.

_Saphira, something tells me....he is revealing the truth, Elves? Dragons? He knows too much, I must ask Brom about these Nymphs. _

"Control of the elements? How?" I pleaded. The man chucked again.

"Buy me another glass of beer, and then I'll tell you more" Disbelief poured into my veins, I began to protest.

"Nymphs are born with one element in their blood" a haunting voice rang lucid in the heavy air of the bar. My head swerved around to see a clocked and hooded figure seated on the other side of me. Their figure and voice distinctly was female. "The element is represented within their left iris, red for fire, blue for water, green for earth and yellow for air. As Nymphs grow, they learn to harness the extent of their abilities to being able to conjure ice spears, uprooting vines, or, to even fly." The figure continued to speak.

_Nymphs..._Saphira mused _and I thought only Dragons can have full rule over fire. _

"However, great power comes with great price. For being able to retain the power, Nymphs must pay a certain amount of energy to rise and to create, if the power is returned intact; the energy will also be; but, if the power has been tainted, then the energy will also be destroyed, cutting the Nymph's lifespan down."

"Hey!" the man's drunken voice cried. "You wench, stole me of another beer!" He stood and stumbled over to the figure who had already stood up. I also rose from my seat.

_Eragon! Be careful, you don't want to get too involved. _

"What are you hiding under that hood lassie?" The man said, and as quick as he grabbed me, he gripped the figure's hood and jerked it off. The man cried out in surprise.

I gasped; the girl's skin was white and almost transparent. Lacing up her neck were slender, wispy blue streaks of veins, scaling up to her chin and disappearing behind her purple tinged cheeks. Dark circles wrapped underneath her eyes. Her brow was concealed beneath a heavy fringe of hair, as the rest of the scarlet tresses streamed down the back of her head and vanished underneath the cloak. But, the most predominate feature of her face, the most poignant trait were her eyes. Her glowing eyes.

_Her right iris is purple...her left is.....green. _I murmured to Saphira. I felt the astonishment Saphira had. The man dashed out the tavern, frightened of the girl's ethereal appearance.

"N-nymph....?" I muttered out loud. The young woman's eyes flickered towards my face before she held her hand, her indigo marked hand up to her face, palm up, and puffed out. Lilac powder waffled into my face; I coughed and waved my hand to drive it away. Unfortunately, I had already inhaled some of the substance; my thoughts became less clear, as my vision followed. My limbs no longer belonged to me, as they toppled out from underneath, bringing my face closer to the ground. My last thought was of Saphira calling my name before my mind tumbled into depths of Oblivion.


	2. Chapter 1 Understanding

**Author's Note:** Much to Hisota's dismay, she doesn't own the original ideas for this story, as it sole belongs to Christopher Paolini. The ideas of control of elements of Hisota's original character belongs to Dragon of Twilight and were tweaked by ObsidianTheatre, as was the plotline in the fan fiction.

Unconsciousness finally released me from its suffocating cage. I struggled to open my eyes, the heavy lids threatening to once again lower my sight to that of a sense of darkness. Once I forced my eyelids to open, and stay open, my eyes commenced the action of processing the image of wooden panels above me. A ceiling of a house, a ceiling of a bedroom, the bedroom Jeod has met me borrow. I slowly sat up, my eyes losing focus as blood flooded into my skull.

_S-Saphira? _I murmured.

_Eragon! _She breathed. _You're awake. _Before I could ask what had happened, she already began to explain. _Once you lost consciousness to whatever dust that girl blew into your face, I contacted Brom as quickly as I could. He came to the pub to get you. _

_ And what of that Nymph? _I asked.

_Eragon, I'm not even sure that your conclusion of that woman being a Nymph is accurate. _Saphira warned.

_ No! I'm positive, what other person have we ever met has had an appearance like her? And that powder she blew in my face, I'm sure that came from a plant, and her eyes, as she explained 'the element is represented within their left iris and her left iris was green! It isn't possible that it's just a coincidence. _I remarked.

Saphira scoffed. _To answer your question earlier, the 'Nymph', _she said, emphasizing upon the word 'Nymph' as though she was mocking me, _was gone before Brom got there. And we will soon find out if 'Nymphs' even exist. _Before I could question what she meant by that, the door of my bedroom rasped open. Marching in was a frustrated – no _infuriated _looking Brom.

"I see you're awake, Eragon" he said, gritting his teeth. I didn't reply, fully prepared for the long, tyrannical scolding I was about to receive. "So, please, do care to explain to me _why _Saphira had to inform me that you had _fainted_, in a _bar _no less!" he nearly shouted. It seems as though Saphira hasn't told him, punishment for being so careless I assume.

Twisting my fingers around in my palm I winced. "I met this man in the tavern and he told me he wanted to tell me story, I sat down and listened to him and he told me about a race called Nymphs. After that, I asked him to tell me more, but he refused unless I buy him another beer."

"So you got in a fight with him?" Brom accused.

"No!" I said, "If I did wouldn't there be bruises on me? Besides I know better than to draw attention to myself." Brom harrumphed. I continued my defence.

"I was about to protest, but a woman in black interrupted me and told me more about Nymphs. The man was enraged and pulled off the woman's hood, and...and." I stopped, wondering how I'm going to explain her appearance. "She almost like a _ghost_! Her skin was pale, extremely pale! Like the clouds, and blue veins were dreadfully predominate upon her face and hands, but her eyes, one was purple the other was green. And the green one was the left eye! And she even told me that Nymph's element was embodied in the left eye! And then she blew some dust into my face, I breathed it in and...passed out." I finished. Brom gaped at me.

"Eragon, where ever you go, even unintentionally, you draw menace out. Fortunately the powder you inhaled wasn't dangerous... an old weapon used for escape, or capture." He sighed.

"Can you tell me what Nymphs are?" I asked. Brom groaned, and sat down beside me on the bed.

"What do you already know?"

_See Saphira! I was right! Nymphs do exist! _

"Only of the element and the price which they are used" I said.

Brom sighed, "It seems you know little about Nymphs. Nymphs were alive long before humans walked this land. What the man and woman told you were true, and I believe your assumption was correct, that woman is most likely a Nymph, their appearance is quite wraithlike. The Nymph's control of the elements does come with the price of their lifespan, and with that, if Nymphs went to war, they would have a huge disadvantage as if they use their power, say to make an ice spear, and that weapon was destroyed, then the Nymph's lifespan will be decrease.

With this knowledge, the Nymphs began to search for the answer to extend their life. And they learnt by taking an eye of another being, the natural lifespan of that being would be transferred into them. And who do you think Nymphs would target?" Brom asked. I shuddered.

"Elves, because of their almost immortal lives." I said. Brom nodded.

"But mere immortality is not what they were truly after. The Nymphs wanted the power of magic. And if they had succeeded, even the dragon riders will have reason to fear them and so, the Nymphs and the Elves went to war for quite some time, as expected the Elves came out victorious, and the Nymphs went into hiding." Brom finished.

"So there are still Nymphs somewhere out there?" I asked. "Were the Nymphs also included in the promise with the Dragons?"

"Before the appearance of the Nymph you saw, I thought the race was extinct." Brom said. "The Nymphs cannot use the magic of the Ancient Language, thus they cannot speak to Dragons and if they could...." I watched as Brom shuddered. "Is that the end of your questions?" He asked, "I thought you were about to have me up all night to answer your questions about Nymphs."

I shook my head. "I have a lot to think about."

"Well then," he said, getting up, "Get some sleep; we will have you becoming literate tomorrow." I nodded, as Brom shut the door.

_What a world we have entered Eragon. _Saphira conveyed. I agreed.

_Nymphs, and Elves, and Dwarfs, Dragons, Werecats, Witches and Dragons! If we make it out alive, that is an impressive feat. _

Saphira hummed. _Sleep little one, pondering upon these topics will keep you awake for hours. _I nodded, my eyes already closing. Despite being unconscious for most of the day, my body demanded that I rest properly, and on my free will.

That night I dreamed of flying ghosts, dancing Elves with swords parrying soaring icebergs and up rooted trees. Of Werecats and drunk men, of seeing that Nymph's face again, and of flying in the sky upon Saphira.

**Author's Note: **Hisota thanks all who have read her first chapter of this story, and hopes that they will continue following her fan fiction!


	3. Chapter 2 Hunter

**Author's Note:** Much to Hisota's dismay, she doesn't own the original ideas for this story, as it sole belongs to Christopher Paolini. The ideas of control of elements of Hisota's original character belongs to Dragon of Twilight and were tweaked by ObsidianTheatre, as was the plotline in the fan fiction. And a simple warning, this chapter contains some gruesome language and images.

Concealed by the leaves in front of me, I dangled from a long arm of the tree. The young boy, not yet at the age of manhood, was hunting. Such naivety from this boy, does he not realize that he is about to become sacrifice, and not just any sacrifice, the sacrifice of one of the most powerful creatures that ever stalked the land of Alagaesia?

I extended my left arm, aiming at the soil, underneath my prey. Feeling for the presence of a rose vine, growing, rising, and emerging from the cracked earth, the vine grew until its height matched that of the boy, and lashed forward, wrapping itself around the boy's neck. He set free a strangled yelp before the vine cut off his windpipe. A malicious smirk graced my lips before I commanded the vine to weave up into the tree, and halt before me. I studied the human facing me, the boy was struggling to loosen the rose stem binding his breath, his face growing red from the lack of air. His eyes reflecting my appearance, my heterochromatic eyes, my pallid skin, laced with pale blue contours. The boy's cobalt eyes began to cloud over, a darker haze shading the clear color

"Such pretty eyes," I whispered. I reached out and caressed the boy's cheek; he flinched, and thrashed harder to remove to vine. My right hand whipped out and held his chin to keep him still, and with my left hand I traced his left eye. And unable to hold in the raw hunger any longer, I plunged my fingers into his eye socket, and gouged out his eyeball. The boy opened his mouth, to unleash a soundless, breathless, cry of agony.

I stared at the beauty of the eyeball in the palm of my hands, gently embracing the bloody sphere like a new born child. Roll the eye into the palm of my right hand, I lifted my blood-soaked fingers to my own right eye, and gashed it out, gritting as the magenta coloured organ slumped out of its socket. Blood streaming down my face, and onto my arm, my own blood mixing with the boy's. Letting my eyeball plunge to the floor of the forest; I grasped the boy's and rammed it into the empty hollow. I hissed as the muscles in the socket connected with the foreign eye, forcing it to work once again.

Vision in my right eye returned. And below me, smothered sobs of anguish were heard. I leaped off the branch and landed silently on the ground, and sauntered towards my sacrifice. He lifted his head, his hand covering the concave of his eye and blubbered.

"N-no! Please no, please don't kill me!" he cried raising both hands out in front, like it would protect him.

"If I don't kill you," I began, my left hand grasping the hilt of Vitenka, "then taking your eye would be for nothing." I awakened my blade, "rest assured, your life will not be in vain". I raised the blade, "with the life you have given me, I intend to hunt down someone who will grant me the status of being absolutely unconquerable." I whipped my arm down, Vitenka hacking the boy's head off. Blood splattered the dirt.

I closed my eyes, power surged through me. My limbs no longer felt weak, and aged. The boy has given me a gift of at least 40 more years of age.

I bent over and wiped the blood off the sharp metal, and sheathed it.

"And this person, do you know who she is?" I asked, pausing for one last glance at the corpse. "She is Arya the Elven Princess."

**Authors Note: **Hisota apologizes for such a short chapter. But hopes that you liked it. And she wants inform you that, not all the chapters are going to be this gruesome and violent. Hisota thanks you for reading the second chapter of Sight.


	4. Chapter 3 Chase

**Author's Note:** Much to Hisota's dismay, she doesn't own the original ideas for this story, as it sole belongs to Christopher Paolini. The ideas of control of elements of Hisota's original character belongs to Dragon of Twilight and were tweaked by ObsidianTheatre, as was the plotline in the fan fiction. Hisota asks for forgiveness, because of the confusion she may have created with last chapter. The chapter wasn't in Eragon's point of view.

A wicked smile graced my jaws, as I submerged myself in a flowering shrub. Out in front of me, are two foolish Urgals, who were dim enough to assume that they would be safe hiding from the enemy in an open clearing near a lake. Both seem to be suffering from internal chest wounds, and stumbled around like drunken idiots. Once they managed to claim what was left of their senses, they built a fire and killed a deer for food. During this time, their discussions involved unintelligible cursing to whoever caused their state, and brainless muttering between one another. I quickly began to lose my patience, and was lacking the ability to remain veiled. My left hand shifted to clutch the hilt of Vitenka, and release it from its covered prison. Then the two dimwits spoke.

"Drajl*, that_ boy_, he has the nerve to insult our master!" Boy... and he bears enough strength to injure an Urgal. Could he possibly be....?

"Do you think he was an Elf?" My eyes widened, and I clenched my sword stiffly. Another elf, in the Empire, have they sent someone to for Arya?

"Nay, the wretched Elves, have never left their cursed forest. The only known Elf in the Empire belongs in our master's hands." Only Elf? That must be Arya. With that my temper and adrenaline rose, the tree branches began to extend themselves. Life oozed out of me, as I used the cursed powers of Nymphs. I let the adrenaline seep through as the branches struck the Urgals. One's abdomen was pierced by the sharp limb; black blood drenched the emerald grass. The other was bound tightly against the trunk of another tree.

I emerged from my hiding place as the Urgals bellowed in surprise from the ambush. I strut towards the impaled one; an arrogant leer coated my face. I awakened my powers once again, and forced the branches to grow inside the bulky brute. He bawled and twisted with agony as the branches sprout from his body, spattering blood all over me and his kin. The other Urgal watched, gasping and helpless as he prepared for the same future that awaited him. Then the dying beast ceased movement.

I paused – gazing at the carcass of the second creature I killed in half a century. Before slowly turning to face my next victim.

"Now," I began, a disgustingly childlike grin plastered on my face. "I couldn't help but to overhear you two speaking about an Elf." The Urgal gaped and clamped his mouth shut. "I'm willing to make a deal, I'll set you free if you tell me where this Elf is being held." The ogre shook his head and remained silent. I drew Vitenka sharply and ripped off the Urgals' arm. He roared and wrenched around in his bindings. The branches tightened their hold.

"Tell me where the Elf is, or you will _wish_ to wither the rest of your pathetic life away just the way your companion did." I hissed. The Urgal remained quiet. I lowered my head. A test subject? A little game I can play? An animal I can enjoy some amusement with. It has been fifty years since I felt the adrenaline in my veins, fifty years deprived of full on bloodlust, fifty years without using my powers to its full extent! Its time I played with someone's mind.

Then I felt it, a giggle erupted from my chest, it grew until a breathless cackle fell from my lips. I threw my head back as I was having hysterics. The Urgal was terrified. His life was in the hands of a psychotic fiend.

After my fit ceased to giggles, I bent down to the ground below me and placed my hand on the blacken grass, and called forth my power, the Urgal watched my progress, curious of his fate. I raised my hand and revealed the bulb of a flower. Leaning my face down, I whispered to the flower to open, and the lush crimson petals revealed itself to the Urgal and I. In the center of the blossom, there was a lethality sharp thorn. I plucked it out of the flower, and returned it to Nihility. And with the thorn, I flung my wrist, and the thorn buried itself deeply in the Urgal's neck. He clamped down his jaw, and smothered a cry.

A ruthless chuckle simmered and boiled to my throat.

"The maggots are coming!" I taunted. Then reached for Vitenka, drawing it, I sliced off the Urgals' left arm; thick ruby liquid flooded the area beneath my feet. The Urgal gaped at the place that once held his left limb. His eyes grew wider, for he was seeing something entirely horrific and gruesome. He then released a frenzied shriek, and squirmed around, his back arching.

My psychotic laughing grew once again, and shot over the Urgal's howling. Formido – the Nymph's thrilling poison that causes the victim to hallucinate, and not just any hallucination, a beautiful delirium of being _eaten alive by maggots! _I imprisoned my power and unchained the Urgal. The life I gave up, was restored to me once again. He plunged to his knees and began clawing at his body and face.

"Ah, Ah, AH! What's happening? They're are gnawing my arms, my head! What is this!?"

"You're going to be consumed by the maggots!" I replied, pure mock in my voice. "I stop it, if you tell me where the Elf is."

He started to roll around in the blood plastered dirt. "Gil'ead! In the jailhouse. The Shade Durza holds her captive!" I smiled. "Please, please just get them off of me! No more! No more!" I brandished Vitenka high above my head, and brought it down upon the struggling Urgal – stabbed his heart and wrenched it out, tossing the gouged out organ to the side. The deceased Urgal's eyes were wide open, his mouth agape.

"There, I made it stop." Flourishing my blade, I concealed it in its sheath; I then let out a high pitched shriek to the heavens. Watching the sky I then saw a thin, scaly, cerulean, winged snake slither through the clouded and landed before me.

"Cesidio!" I cried at the Fanghur, "I am now a step closer to immortally, Arya has been found!" I whispered. Cesidio rumbled, and I leapt to the saddle on his back. With that, the Fanghur and the Nymph soared to the heavens. And we sailed towards Gilead.

**Author's Note: **Hisota thanks you for reading the third chapter of "Sight" and she pleads you to please review her story so that her self-confidence can remain intact. Hisota would also like to you comment upon her writing style and her plotline so that she can improve in the future. Thank You!


	5. Chapter 4 Negotiation

**Author's Note:** Much to Hisota's dismay, she doesn't own the original ideas for this story, as it sole belongs to Christopher Paolini. The ideas of control of elements of Hisota's original character belongs to Dragon of Twilight and were tweaked by ObsidianTheatre, as was the plotline in the fan fiction.

Camouflaged by the glowing moon in the hours of darkness, I watched soldiers – clad in full armoury – enter and leave the prison of Gil'ead. My impatience was growing; Arya will be at my mercy! Yet, I could not obtain the eye, the power, the immortality, _the ability to use the Ancient Language_. Like being chained to the ocean floor, however only a hair's - width away from the surface, unable to grasp the air needed to survive, I was drowning at the proximity of Arya's presence.

I could storm into the stone fortress killing every single person who dares to hinder a Nymph, shatter the door to every cell until I find Arya, confront her, lunge at her and gouge out her eye! Then everything would be over, I would be invincible, unconquerable – the most powerful being in Alagaesia! Yet...still...I cannot, a Shade haunts the stronghold, striding into the jail will either result in my injury, or death. Both in which I wish to evade. A stealthy entry and escape is what I need, but my appearance is exceedingly distinct...

I whipped my head around at the sound of heavy breathing; a tall man was staring at me. I growled and slowly reached for Vitenka. He didn't seem surprised; however his facial features were shrouded by the night. Nevertheless, mine were not. Mine were glowing, my skin, my eyes, my hair, everything stands out. I made no other move after gripping Vitenka harshly, hoping – no – _begging_ that he saw me as a ghost and ran away.

"A Nymph." He whispered. My eyes widened. He is educated, very well educated. In a blaze, I extracted Vitenka from its sheath and shot forward, the man caught my blade in a stalemate as we battled for supremacy.

"A young man educated in the ancient history, and is decent in swords play. Possibly one of the Varden? Or are a noble in the King's court?" I asked. He pushed my sword back and launched a full arc at my head. I ducked.

"My heritage is of no concern; however, yours marks my curiosity. I thought the Nymphs had become extinct in their war for the Ancient Language." He replied, dodging my violent string of slicing. He stepped out of the greenery and into the beam of the night sun.

"That face!" I cried, freezing my onslaught. "I remember seeing that face long ago." I stepped forward; he took a step back, his sword still standing ready. "Are you Morzan?" His stance faltered. "What is Morzan, the King's right hand man doing here in Gil'ead? Should you not be in Uru'baen?"

"Lady Nymph –"

"Dycentra," I corrected. "Don't you remember me Morzan? You came to me asking for the Nymph's allegiance to the Empire long ago."

"Lady Dycentra," he continued, "I believed you have mistaken me for someone else. I am not Morzan."

I frowned "Surely not, Morzan, don't lie to me, a man with eyes like yours is hard to forget." His mouth straightened to a hard line.

"Morzan is dead."

"Oh no, Morzan is standing here before me, please don't fool me." I said, nauseatingly sugary.

"Morzan is dead." He barked. "Morzan is my father. I am Murtugh Morzansson."

"Murtugh...Morzansson." I murmured peering off into the distance.

"Why aren't you in Uru'baen, the King wouldn't let his right hand man's son roam free now would he?" I asked. Murtugh chucked bleakly.

"Lady Dycentra, it seems as though you haven't been keeping of with the events."

"Oh? Then tell me Murtugh Morzansson, tell me what I have missed." I hissed. He hesitated.

"There has been a rumour of a new Dragon Rider who opposes Galbatorix." I inclined an eyebrow, a new Dragon Rider?

"And this Dragon Rider brings you to spy upon a Nymph? Or is there something you would like inside this jail?"

"Lady, you are very perceptive, I seek an entrance."

"Ah, then Morzansson, we are one in the same." I replied lightly. "I can lend you a hand in your task."

"I doubt, Lady Dycentra, that you would be so gracious." He said. I chucked.

"Nay, Morzansson, I believe the perceptive one is you." He smirked at my remark.

"I have heard that Nymphs are not included in the promise of the Dragon Riders."

"Ah, yes, you heard correct, the Elves and Dragons didn't allow us to become Riders because of our hunger for Dragon's teardrop." I said.

"May I inquire, why?"

"Well, Morzansson, Dragons are creatures born of magic. They are the emblem of everything miraculous or mysterious." He faintly nodded, agreeing with my point. "Nymphs increase their lifespan through stealing an eye of a living being, replacing it with their own, then killing the possessor of the sacrificed eye."

"Dragons can be considered immortal, as long as their Rider is alive." He stayed quiet, curious of where I was going. "Nymphs cannot attain the eye of a Dragon, as the eye would not correspond to the muscles in Nymph bodies. However, the teardrop of a Dragon..."

His eyes widened with the realization. "A Dragon's teardrop would act like an eye, giving Nymphs years of life. If a Dragon and Nymph bonded, the pair would be untouchable. The Rider would never fall, hence the Dragon would remain." He murmured, finishing my explanation. Silence rang the space.

This man can help me; I'll mark him, a tracking apparatus. If he proves to be false, I will hunt him down, and damn him to Hell. I sheathed my sword, Morzansson relaxed his rigid stance, I strode towards him, and he gasped at my sudden advanced.

"Son of Morzan..." I began, I raised my hand a traced a line on his neck. His veins rippled. "Murtugh, you may be able to give me what I want..." I raised my face up to his neck and quickly sank my teeth into him, blood dripped unto my tongue. Morzansson yelped and shoved me away from him. Grasping his neck in the process. "You may be the only one who can." Confusion, and revulsion stained his emotions, I smiled, an unnecessary gesture for placing a tracker – biting him – yet exceedingly amusing.

"Murtugh Morzansson, meet me here in a day's time. Together we will slither into this stone castle, and obliterate all in the way of a Nymph and the Son of Morzan." And with that, I retreated into the grasp of the night.

He can help me enter the fortress, help me get Arya, and not only that but he offers the prospect at the teardrop of a Dragon! However, what if...what if he cannot? A Dragon, where would he get a Dragon? There are only rumours about a new Dragon Rider.. However, what if he is the new Dragon Rider, Morzansson, the offspring of a Dragon Rider would likely become a Rider himself!

**Author's Note:** Hisota thanks all for reading the forth chapter of Sight, and she hopes you enjoyed it. As well, she would deeply appreciate it if you would all review her story, to critic her writing style, plot, or character designs. Anything is welcome, as it would cause Hisota to possess more self confidence in her story. In this chapter she would also like to thank all those who have reviewed her story as well. Thank you!


	6. Chapter 5 Recognition

**Author's Note:** Much to Hisota's dismay, she doesn't own the original ideas for this story, as it sole belongs to Christopher Paolini. The ideas of control of elements of Hisota's original character belongs to Dragon of Twilight and were tweaked by ObsidianTheatre, as was the plotline in the fan fiction.

""Such a disgraceful entry." I murmured, continuing my journey in the revolting scullery chute, in front of me Morzansson also struggled to slither down the filthy tube.

"Lady Dycentra," he began, utterly disregarding my remark, "whilst in the fortress, I caution you to be alert. Our escape has been arranged –"

"Morzansson, you needn't worry about my flight, I am capable of fending my own." I replied. Upon entrance, I will find where Arya lies. And when I do, her eye will belong to me. When I find her, her eye, her life, her _power_ shall at my disposal!

"In any case, Lady Dycentra, if you need assistance, our escape is set, our route will be formed when the next shift of guards exchange." He said. Morzansson leapt out of the chute and brushed off the remaining rubbish hanging on his clothes. I followed in suit, sweeping the dirt from my cloak. Morzansson pulled a large pack off his shoulders and removed a black shroud, a false beard, a walking stick, his bow and quiver of arrows. Pulling on the guise he assumed a feigned limp, leaning on the walking stick. I drew the hood over my eyes, and trailed after him, clutching Vitenka at my hip.

The prison was wretchedly cold, and dull. From the scullery chute that served as our gate, an array of stone stairs lead the way up into what I assume as the main passage. Morzansson ensured no one witnessed our coming, then beckoned me to follow him up the stairway.

Together we flew up the stone steps before laying eyes upon the main prison passage of the jail in Gil'ead. Of course, the bleak and dampness did not subside – the vast castle's ceiling refused to allow the sunlight to enter the building. Returning my gaze upon Morzansson, I found him striding towards one of the long corridors.

"Do you know the whereabouts of your destination?"I asked.

"No."He simply replied.

"Well then, Morzansson, might we travel jointly for the time being?" He didn't reply and continued marching, I swiftly followed behind him. As we walked both he and I remained alert for the presence of soldiers, or worse, a Shade. A faint cry rendered my body stiff. Morzansson immediately dipped into a defensive stance, his hand flying to his bow. I whipped around to find the weep had resounded from a wooden door.

Morzansson approached the door cautiously and peered through the barred window. Silence. He then crouched down and tried to pry the lock open.

"Morzansson, have you found –"

"Lady Dycentra, I trust with your powers you can open this."

I also bent down and examined the lock – a simple dead bolt, one that can be cracked open, why would I waste my life on something this simple?

"Morzansson, merely smash the lock."

"It is unwise we would – " Before he could finish, I had already drew Vitenka and slammed it into the lock. The eerie sound of clashing metal echoed the halls. "– attract too much attention." The door slowly opened. Morzansson gazed at the broken lock on the ground, then slowly exhaled and scanned the area before quickly stepping into the cell, curious, I went after him. Inside the cell was a little boy, no more than 10 years of age. Morzansson carefully stepped towards the boy, the child shrivelled back, wary of the figure approaching him. Strangely, his eyes were glazed over, as if in a trance...is this child...blind?

"Morzansson, this is whom you were seeking?" I asked, incredulity charmed my words, he disregarded me.

"I'm not going to harm you." Morzansson softly said. No, this wasn't the one Murtugh was looking for...if was, the boy would have responded accordingly. However, the boy remained still. "Come, you needn't be frightened, you can escape."The boy tilted his head, curious. Morzansson reached over for the child and pulled him up, and gently guiding him to the door. He then pointed the child to staircase and down where in the scullery chute, giving him directions for means to flee. Such a fool, doesn't he realize the child cannot see?

"Morzansson, the child is blind."

He raised his eyes to meet mine before spinning the boy around to face him. He knelt down and waved his hand in front of the boy's eyes. No response. He moaned.

"Lady Dycentra, might I ask a great favour." He said. I raised an eyebrow. Surely Morzansson did not think that virtuously of me, surely he wouldn't believe me to be of such morality and decency to – "Would you kindly escort the child out?"

I gawked at him idiotically. He turned and strode away.

"Lev – " No, Morzansson.

Murtugh Morzansson.... such a man forces me to reminiscent someone long ago, someone who held me dear, someone who was foolish enough to throw away their own life for me. It is as if Murtugh was protecting this child just as someone once protected me…

_My eyes widened, before me stood a man, his left eye was a smouldering red, his right a dull brown. Is doesn't matter – heterochromatic eyes. A Nymph. Another Nymph has found us. Me, a child. Levka, I must get to Levka. Mother made him promise to protect me. He would protect me! He wouldn't let anyone take my eyes!_

"_Levka!"_

_I crashed into his body, as his arms quickly covered me. I'll be safe. I told myself. Levka is here. The other Nymph materialized from the corner of my eye. I shrieked and gripped Levka even harder. He hushed me, trying to calm me down. I was hyperventilating then. He gently placed me on the ground again and stood to face the other Nymph._

_The Nymph grinned maliciously._

"_Two young Nymphyn." He said, laughing. "Why, it must by my lucky day." He paused and began his approach. He glanced over Levka before laying his eyes upon me. Watching me, wanting me. _

"_No." Levka whispered._

"_I'll tell you what boy," the Nymph said, with a tone of negotiation. "The girl is plenty, why waste our life on something as insignificant as ethics? We are one and the same are we not?"_

"_Levka." My voice chocked. Levka's arm slowly moved towards his sword, the sword he had named Vitenka, before slowly drawing it out. The other Nymph cocked his eyebrow._

"_So be it." The Nymph smirked. Raising his right hand, he revealed his power, the power to conjure the crimson flames._

_Levka pulled me aside, forcing me to stand alone in the open while he fights to defend my existence. Brandishing Vitenka in his right hand, he commenced paving towards the other Nymph, initiating the battle. The Nymph's grin widened, revealing all his gleaming teeth, raised his burning arm over and around his body, and lashed out. Crimson ribbons shot forward from his finger tips, rapidly making their way towards Levka. I stepped backwards, trying to further myself from harm._

_Levka grimaced, and whipped his sword down in front, creating a flurry of wind, the gust engulfed and twisted around the red fire, encircling scarlet in a black flame of his own. Both trembled and wafted away, the black lingering, signifying the victor of the clash. The Nymph's smile crashed and fell, only to be replaced with an infuriated sneer._

"_The cold flame; hell fire." He hissed. Levka forlornly smiled._

_Hell's fire? It is not so furious. Levka is gentle, though sullen and hostile. He is a man who can douse any temper just as his black flame's ice will douse this infernal creature. Levka can win! His flame can win out! And we will once again remain in peace. _

_Suddenly Levka's aggrieved cry shattered through my reverie, devastating my delicately built resolution._

"_Levka!" I shrieked. He was staggering; clutching his abdomen, he twisted his fingers around and inside the wound, and then slowly extracted a jagged rock – shouting in anguish as it left his flesh. The other Nymph laughed._

"_You seemed to have taken me too lightly, believing that fire was my only element."_

"_You mean..." Levka began, as a thought dawned upon him._

"_Yes." The Nymph mocked, pointing towards his right eye. "I killed another of our kin, I killed her and stole her eye, I killed her and stole her power."_

"_No!" I screamed at the Nymph. "You monster!" He....killed another. He killed another Nymph; he's going to kill Levka too. And if he kills Levka...he is going to kill me. He is going to kill me and take my eye, my life._

"_Hush, Dycentra." Levka whispered. He then clawed at a chain around his neck, pulling it from underneath his shirt, a small black orb, now rested in his bloody hand. Lifting it to his face, he blew on it, murmuring to it. The black began to drip from the orb, puddle-ling in his palm. Beneath the black, held..._

"_Mother's eye." I whispered. In Levka's hand, held Mother's eye, the sapphire iris glazed over. "Levka...you..." No, he wouldn't dare, Levka wouldn't fall so low to use the eye of his own Mother! Levka wouldn't sink to the level of becoming a monster!_

"_Dycentra, there are times when power is worth more than ethics."_

ObsidianTheatre, and mainly Hisota apologizes for such a long delay for this chapter, however she hopes you enjoy Chapter 5 of "Sight" and promises the next chapter will emerge much faster. She hopes this delay didn't cause any readers to lose hope in "Sight" and continues to read it. Hisota encourages all to review to comment on her writing style, plot, or anything else, such as questions are welcome. Thank You.


	7. Chapter 6 Ethics

**Author's Note:** Much to Hisota's dismay, she doesn't own the original ideas for this story, as it sole belongs to Christopher Paolini. The ideas of control of elements of Hisota's original character belongs to Dragon of Twilight and were tweaked by ObsidianTheatre, as was the plotline in the fan fiction.

_A scream ripped from my throat as Levka rammed his palm into his eye socket. He grunted as Mother's right eye twisted into his cutting apart his own eye to gain access into the socket, gashing through his lower and upper eyelids. Levka lowered his head and covered his eye with his arm, groaning as blood dripping off the pallid limb. _

_"Levka!" _

The present greeted me almost too soon. My eyes gained focus upon the colourless stone floor. Levka, you're so thoughtless, so noble, so _self sacrificing. _You should have let him steal my eyes, let him kill me. Instead, you died in my place.

_ I watched as my older brother wilted to the ground. Watched as the other Nymph's head rolled away. Watched, and realized the horror, and repugnance I felt about my own race. To kill another of our kind for immortality? To take the eye our own blood relation for strength? All for what? _

_ Of course, it's all in the thirst, the need to survive!_

_ Wait, no, no, no! It cannot be. Could Levka betray me? Is he also on this path of survival? Is he only keeping me alive for long enough so he can kill me? Kill me and use my eyes for his own purposes? Kill me and use my eyes for the same purpose as he used Mother's eye? Kill me an betray me? No, no! I cannot let him! I cannot just sit and wait for the moments where he decides its time to take my eyes._

_ My breathe came in short gasps, as if the air couldn't pass through a wall in my throat. I sank to my knees, grasping my hair and screamed. _

_ "No, No, No!" There has to be a way to stop him. To prevent myself from dying. I don't want to die!_

_ NO!_

_ But... yes. Now is the time. The time when Levka is weaker than he will ever be. He is on the verge of death. I would be doing him a favour if I kill him now. My legs straightened themselves, and carried me forward. Levka's weakened body was curled up, as his chest rose and fell with his laboured breathing. Congealed and dried blood sealed most of his wounds, he would be unable to fully recover unless he takes a human eye. Unfortunately for him he wouldn't have the opportunity to heal. I gently knelt beside him, placing both my hands upon his upper arm. I must reassure him, give him trust that I wouldn't harm him. _

_ "Levka," I murmured. "Levka, are you alright?" I gave him a light shake. He moaned in response. _

_ 'Yes Dycentra."He slowly began to roll over, perfect; his eyes will be at full exposure. I would take his left eye. The eye which holds his power of Hellfire. "I'll heal eventually." He continued. Unaware of my advancing upon his eye. Unaware that my fingers are a mere hairs width from his closed eyelids. Unaware that his life will end in mere seconds. "As long as you're safe." I froze. Was Levka really concerned about my safety? _

_ I shook my head, of course he is! He wants to be sure I live until he needed my eyes. It's just an act, he knows my plan! He is trying to confuse me! I can't let this happen, I won't, I won't, I won't! _

_My fingers pulled back the lids protecting his left eye, Levka gasped, his hands weakly clutched mine in attempt to stop me. _

_ "Dy, what are you – " I cannot hesitate, I cannot let him fool me into thinking that he would protect me. I plunged my fingered into his eye socket, blood heavily streaming out and covered my white hand. Levka cried out in anguish. His body arching as I wrenched the mauve orb from the muscles holding it in place. "Dy!" He breathed. "Dycentra, why?" I refused to answer him, my resolve will break, and I will return his eye to him if I opened my mouth. Holding the sphere like I watched him do, I situated it over my right eye. The forsaken eye. The socket that should never be exchanged. The eye that should always be my own, untainted by the blood of another. Gritting my teeth, I slammed the eye in, a Nymph's eye should never be exchanged only added. Excruciating pain forced me to the ground, withering. I shrieked, countless times. All I could remember was Levka's eye splitting open my own. _

_ Blood matted my hair. As my breath finally returned to me. I slowly opened my new right eye. Nothing was different, I could still see clearly, however inside, I could feel a new power, surging to overwhelm and take over. With only adrenaline holding it back._

_ "Dy! Dy!" Levka screamed. He had managed to sit upright, though struggling to close the wounds that had opened. _"What have you done?"_ I stood, striding over to his fallen sword – soon to be my inheritance. _

_ "Levka, my brother." I began. I snatched the hilt and lifting the sword. "You were going to betray me. I had too, I had no choice!" Lifting the heavy sword over my head, I stepped towards my brother. "I want to live." I whispered. "And if I want to live you must..." I slammed the sword down, crushing my brother's heart. Levka unleashed a chocked sob, his last breath. "die." _

I shook my head. Now isn't the time to relive the past. A tug on my skirt pulled me out of berating myself. The blind child had beckoned me.

"Come on, Lady Dycentra. I'll protect you."

I scoffed. A child, a blind one no less promises to protect me? Am I that weak, to have the unwanted protection my brother, Murtugh Morzansson, and a _blind child_? How degrading! I glared at the child clinging to my legs. Say...he is blind. How well would he be able to fend for himself in this world, of Nymphs, Dragons, Shades, and Elves? Not well... I would be doing him a favour killing him – a mercy killing. My lips pulled up into a cruel smirk. I bent down, and enveloped the child in a hug.

"Hush." I crooned. "Let me divulge you in a secret." My voice growing more menacing, my fingers wrapping around his neck. "Child, _there are times, when power is worth more than ethics_." With that, I jerked my arm, snapping his neck. Then without warning the abrupt crashing of stones, claws upon metal and roars in the night sky arose my sense of endurance. Murtugh must have found what he wanted.

Author's Note: Did you know exam weeks are in June? Obsidian Theatre graciously apologizes for the long delay, and hopes you enjoy this chapter! Please comment upon Hisota's writing style, or anything in between.


	8. Sight Additonal Chapter

**Author's Note:** Much to Hisota's dismay, she doesn't own the original ideas for this story, as it sole belongs to Christopher Paolini. The ideas of control of elements of Hisota's original character belongs to Dragon of Twilight and were tweaked by ObsidianTheatre, as was the plotline in the fan fiction.

* * *

It is not something that I can recall so easily, a sweet memory. It drifts within the creases of my being. I cannot remember her face but it is her voice that is still etched into my mind.

"_Dycentra," she cooed, "my little Dycentra. Will you forget me as even the storytellers have forgotten us?"_

Levka would seat me upon his lap then and tell me about her. I couldn't understand why he would though. Her death was swift and years past, so what point was there in his reminiscing?

"_Levka, you mustn't abandon her. She will be all you have left."_

Levka's death was of my own doing and yet, I do not plunge myself in the time that has past. I do not snivel within regret nor sorrow. But Levka…. his eyes would search the horizon, though his face was frozen, under the ice the river flowed – far buried under the iris - but still, his emotions flowed.

"_Dycentra, long ago the Nymphs, our people, lived freely with the ancient races of Alagaesia. We were never at peace though. The Nymphyn had a thirst for power. Undoubtedly you have inherited so much from your father Dycentra. Be forever cautious my sweet, it is that thirst for power that leads to an envious flame. When the Elves bounded with the Dragons, the Nymphyn could not withhold them. To bind the great dragons with the magic using elves? Where would that leave our kind? Thus began the 'Race of Eyes'. It was common knowledge amongst the Nymphs that our lifespan could grow by the replacement of our eye. However, when the ability of being able to use two cursed powers was at stake the Nymphyn was at bay; it was chaos. Do you know the key to using two irises? It is to steal the eye of our own kin. The 'Race of Eyes' led to the destruction of the Nymphyn. Those that obtained the two irises would fight the Elves in the hopes of an omnipotent power. Alas, the allegiance between the Elves and Dragons was far too strong. We are a diminished race, Dycentra, it is why the last of the Nymphs live in fear of each other. If ever you and your brother cross the path of another Nymph, they too will pay any price for your eye."_

I did not, and do not, understand why she was determined us to be the prey.

"_Mother, but if we were able to get the eye of an Elf? Or better yet a Dragon or even a Shade?" _

"_Dycentra, to chase after a Dragon is asking for death. And to take an eye of a Shade, that is death. The human life passed as soon as the spirit took the body. So to take the eye of the Shade has no value to our kind."_ But she did not mention the Elves. No, it is because it is possible, especially now that the Dragons are no longer plentiful to protect their precious alliance. Yes, I am no longer the prey. Just as a hawk in the sky, I will lock Arya in my sight. And then, who could stop my talons from piercing her heart?

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**Editor's Note: **This chapter of sight was not written by the author of sight, Hisoka, but instead was written by the editor Amaya Hisa (myself). Additional chapter will be written purely for any questions that our readers have. In addition, I will continue to write all additional chapters as I am the creator of Sights plot amd understand the nymphs and their limitations better than Hisoka herself. I sincerely thank our readers whom favourite or added Sight to their alerts and will welcome any questions.


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